Now You See Him

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Now You See Him Page 13

by Stella Cameron


  “Marc worked those panes loose,” Cyrus told her. He’d insisted on waiting with Ellie until Joe got back with some of his things. “He reckons they’re worth a lot but the rest of the glass is no big deal. The things in the window display got broken. I’m sorry about that.”

  Ellie threaded her arm through his. “You didn’t break them. Thank you for coming, Cyrus.”

  “You helped me pass a difficult…” He shook his head and Ellie knew better than to press him. “Where’s Daisy? I heard she was a hero.”

  “She went after him and she hasn’t come back. I’m so scared for her.”

  “They’ll find her.” He smiled. “I’m glad you’ve got her.”

  He raised one very dark brow. “Come to that, I’m glad you’ve got Joe. He’s one of the best.”

  “Why are you looking like that? Like you’re giving me another message as well?”

  Cyrus reddened a little. “Did I look like that? Hmm, well, if I remember what I was thinking about, I’ll let you know. There’s Joe. I’ll go out the back. This door’s already locked.”

  When they got to the hall, Joe held the door open with his heel while he plunked a suitcase and a couple of paper bags at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Call if you need anything,” Cyrus said in passing. “Anything at any time.”

  “Thank you,” Ellie said, and pulled him back to kiss his cheek. “See you soon.”

  “You can bet on it,” Cyrus said. He regarded Joe sternly. “I shall make a point of dropping by to see how everything is.”

  16

  Some events, moments, feelings, were indescribable.

  This was one of those, Joe thought. “Is everything locked up?” he said, and felt as if he’d asked Ellie an intimate question. Like a husband coming home after a day at the office. No, like a husband talking to his wife when they were getting ready to go to bed.

  “They did miracles with that window,” Ellie said. She looked up at him and smiled. “The place is tight.”

  “Time for bed, then,” he said, and winced.

  Ellie laughed. Had he noticed before that her laugh squeezed his throat?

  “Yes, dear,” she said, and chuckled, maybe too hard.

  Joe picked up his suitcase and paper bags. “After y’all,” he said, and followed her up the stairs. Ellie didn’t usually wear pants. She should, much more often. The view he had was very nice.

  Zipper’s striped head poked from between two banisters on the landing. She focused entirely on Joe, and her blue eyes not only crossed, they narrowed to slits and a ridge of fur stood up along her back.

  “Put that cat in the window at Halloween,” Joe said. “You won’t need witches or ghosts.”

  “Zipper doesn’t like any change in her routine. She got yanked away from home for hours and now you’re coming up to her place carrying her least-favorite thing—a suitcase. And Daisy’s missing.”

  The cat curled her lips against her gums, backed away and disappeared.

  “I’m sorry she’s standoffish,” Ellie said, reaching the landing herself.

  Joe barely stopped himself from saying, I’m not. Then he felt mean. “She’ll get used to me.”

  He stood behind Ellie, who looked back at him. “You are the best friend I’ve ever had,” she said. “It isn’t easy to play nursemaid to me and deal with your own work.”

  Her best friend? Okay, that was a start, although it didn’t come close to the way he wanted her to think of him. “We’ve got a good setup with my place bein’ so close,” he told her. He couldn’t just leave the other hanging. “I couldn’t want a better friend than you, Ellie. Which is just as well because I’ll never find one.” And he meant every word. He felt good to have told her, even if the conversation felt unfamiliar and personal at the same time.

  She pushed open the door to her apartment.

  Joe swallowed. “I’ll get acquainted with my new digs.”

  “No, no. I’m going to show you around and get you settled.”

  “Will you tuck me in?” Damn your glib mouth, Gable.

  “If you’d like that,” she said, and he noticed her eyes were wet.

  He’d told her she was his friend and she’d gotten teary. A soft but definite whump hit somewhere about his mid-section. One moment she stood her ground and told off a tough NOPD detective, the next she showed how vulnerable she was, how easy she would be to love.

  All she feels for you is gratitude because she’s alone and you’ve reached out a hand. For the past few years he’d tried to let her know she intrigued him, but she’d never been more than congenial, fun even on occasion. He’d realized that either his signals were too weak or she wasn’t interested.

  “You’ve got the key,” she said, and when he fished it from a pocket, she took it and opened the door to the second apartment. “Samie Machin lived here while her husband was overseas in the service. Now he’s out and they’ve got a cute little house not far from Homer and Spike’s store.”

  “I know,” Joe said. “Nice people.”

  A living room, smaller than Ellie’s and furnished with a red sectional, pumpkin-colored chair, two sets of stacking tables and a TV, invited a visitor inside. In front of floor-length ivory linen drapes stood a Chinese screen in black, red, yellow and a spattering of lime-green bamboo leaves.

  “This is just fine,” Joe said. Fine if you want to be across the hall from a woman you’d rather hold through the night.

  “Oh, good. When I did it I was trying for inexpensive but cheerful. I’ll change things if it’s all too overdone for you.”

  “It’s not.”

  “The kitchen is separate.” She hurried past him and flipped the light on in a squeaky-clean white kitchen. “Don’t bother getting in any food. If it’s okay with you, we can share. I’m up early and the coffee’s on. As long as you don’t want eggs Benedict for breakfast, we’ll do fine. Never did like looking at that fancy stuff in the morning.”

  “No eggs Benedict,” he said, unable to take his gaze from her face, from her bright blue eyes and the animated way she spoke. She’d been terrified of staying here alone. Now her relief at having him with her made her giddy and talkative.

  “There are two bedrooms. Same as in my place. The girls get my second bedroom. It’s a little animal palace and they don’t even mind if I have to shut them in.” Ellie looked faraway for an instant but raised her chin and focused on Joe.

  She picked up the paper bags he’d dropped and wouldn’t let him take them back. “I’m a tough one,” she said. He could see a pulse racing in her throat, and the way her fingers shook. “You’ll want the bigger bedroom. The bathroom’s small but it’s okay.”

  He wanted her bedroom.

  Slow down, boy.

  She led him into a softly lit room with pumpkin-colored walls and wall-to-wall carpet of a slightly deeper color. “I know,” she said, touching his arm lightly. “What’s with all the pumpkin? It makes everything seem warmer—not exactly what you need tonight. It’s so muggy and the fans in here don’t do much. Do you really hate it?”

  “I really like it,” he said honestly. “The next time I have somethin’ decorated, I’ll insist you pick everythin’ out. My new place isn’t finished yet. There’s still plenty you can help me with.”

  They looked at each other. Joe didn’t feel like making light of the familiar suggestion he had made and, apparently, neither did Ellie.

  “I’ll always help you if I can.”

  This was sad. Sweet, sad. Two grown-up people who cared about each other but who couldn’t seem to get past tippy-toeing around as if looking for hidden trip wires.

  “How about the bedspread?” Ellie asked. “Samie insisted on leaving it behind because it didn’t go with the new place.”

  “I’ve always thought fake fur was underrated. Looks comfortable.”

  Ellie hauled the bags on top of a fake mink affair. “You haven’t had a thing to eat for hours,” she said. “I’ve got homemade soup in the refrigerator
. You get yourself sorted out and I’ll heat some up.”

  Was he the only one who thought they were dancing slowly, several feet apart but maybe getting a little closer? He wanted to say it wasn’t soup he wanted but nodded instead. “Sounds just the ticket. Be right there.”

  She hovered. “Do you have something cool and really comfortable to put on? Maybe whatever you’re going to wear to bed? That way you’ll be ready to get to sleep.”

  No smiling, Gable. You should be too tired for hot-and-heavy thinking. “Thanks for thinking about that. I’ll take you up on it.” Sometimes she seemed as tough as she reckoned she was, at other times and more often Ellie came across as purely naive.

  The instant Ellie left he stood like a man who’d had a hard blow to the head. What was the matter with him? Grab the pajama pants he’d managed to resurrect from the bottom of an unpacked box, take a quick shower and quit behaving like a wolf in mating season.

  A small bathroom opened off the bedroom. Again this was all white, so it didn’t seem quite so claustrophobic. Joe stripped like a madman, throwing everything into a corner. He leaped into the glassed-in shower enclosure, scrubbed all over and washed his hair.

  Out he got, gave himself a quick towel off, put on the annoying pajama bottoms and hightailed it from the bathroom. He only stopped long enough to grab an undershirt and drag it over his head. “Something cool to put on…” Ellie has said. “Maybe whatever you wear to bed.” Most women would think there was a good chance he slept naked—which he normally did.

  Fingering his hair to make it settle down, he crossed the hall, tapped on Ellie’s open door and went in the instant she told him to.

  His legs wouldn’t take him farther, not just yet. She folded napkins and placed them beside two place mats at one end of the table. Ellie, too, had managed to pass through the shower. Her curls formed a mussed halo. He could smell the scent of lavender soap. Her cotton nightie and robe hit just above the knees. A belt, cinched at the waist, made the most of what was already a dream body.

  She looked up at him and he saw her swallow. The breath she took expanded her chest, pushing her breasts against the fabric of her robe. He wanted, more than anything, to hold her in his arms, naked, and to make love to her until they were both exhausted.

  “Soup won’t take long,” she said. “I felt filthy. I had to take a quick shower.”

  “Me, too,” he said. “What can I do to help?”

  “Keep me company,” she said, so naturally that he knew she hadn’t considered how it might sound. “Sit here. I’ll give you the head of the table. Just don’t get above yourself.”

  “I wouldn’t dare.” There wasn’t a laugh or smile left in him. He’d better make sure she didn’t guess how emotional he felt, how aroused he was. How much he wanted to take her right here and now. He slid into the chair she indicated.

  “First, look in that bedroom over there. Mine’s this end. The other one is…well, look at it.”

  Joe got up, ruefully aware of his condition. Ellie stood very close. He touched her shoulder and she moved back, but not before a glance down the front of her loose robe and nightie made his head light. Blood rushed to inconvenient places. Damn, damn, damn. This wasn’t the time to indulge his hormones.

  “Go on,” Ellie said, and he took a long look into her almost too-blue eyes. She teetered, he could see it, she teetered between gratitude and relief at his being there, and awkwardness that he was.

  He went into the second bedroom and smothered a laugh. Jungle motif gone mad. Great brown painted tree trunks curled up the walls and across the ceiling, and huge green leaves with the occasional outrageous flower peeking out. Oversize snakes in brilliant colors, monkeys, frogs, and in the middle of all this animal heaven stood a regular double bed. Toys scattered the floor. A cat perch built like a vertical maze took up a lot of room.

  “Hey, Daisy,” Joe said. The dog opened one eye, made grumpy, sleepy noises, and settled down again with a big paw on top of her battered cell phone.

  Ellie put her hands on Joe’s back and pushed forward. “Daisy?” she said in a squeaky voice. “You sneaked in through the back door when I wasn’t looking. Oh, Daisy, you sweet thing. I thought you might be dead.”

  She leaned over the bed and hugged both pets, then kissed Daisy.

  “Does the tabby fiend hide—” He never finished his question. Jungle cat, Zipper, who had apparently lined herself up to make a dash into the room, flashed by like a mini gray-and-white-striped tiger. She moved so fast, her paws literally hit several inches up one wall. A second race around the room and she leaped onto the bed, on top of Daisy, scrunched and squiggled around until she fit into the dog’s bumps and dips. Apparently it was Daisy’s bath time and Zipper started with a good face scrub. The dog didn’t stir.

  “She’s lethargic,” Ellie said. “She could just be tired after all she’s been through, but I’ll get her checked out tomorrow.”

  “If I get another life,” Joe said, “I’m comin’ back as your dog.”

  Ellie’s chest tightened. Now she’d given in and done what she’d wanted to do all along. Joe would be with her tonight, possibly for several nights until they caught Charles Penn, but she couldn’t bear to think of how she’d cope when Joe left.

  “The soup will be hot by now,” she said, returning his steady appraisal even though she could hardly stop herself from turning away. He looked at her from head to toe and she tingled. “I’m going to find a candle or two. The overhead light seems harsh to me.”

  Conscious of every step she took, Ellie walked away from him and found two green candles in a kitchen drawer. She put them in holders before lighting them.

  “Nice,” Joe said.

  He stood by the table and waited for her to ladle the soup and sit down. Moisture shone in his thick, dark hair. He took the chair next to hers. A glass of white wine stood beside each bowl. “I hope the wine’s okay. It’s the only kind I have. Homer brought over the crawfish so I threw in everything else I had and made soup. There are enough crawfish left to put into a scramble in the mornin’.”

  Joe put a hand over his heart and said, “Crawfish scramble. Mmm-mmm. I think I’m in love.” He coughed and tore off a piece of bread—Jilly’s bread from All Tarted Up—and took a bite.

  The overhead fans weren’t moving the air in this room, either. The wind had stopped blowing but the stillness, the heaviness, came as a warning of more bad weather to come.

  “Are you hot, Joe?” she asked.

  He looked at his soup and his dark lashes shifted. “Good soup,” he said. “It is hot now. Seems like the big weather is hittin’ all around us. They’re talkin’ about a hurricane, a long way off yet, but it’s lookin’ like it could come on shore in the Gulf.”

  “I hope it weakens before it gets there—or doesn’t come at all,” Ellie said. She popped up and opened both the blinds and the windows. She returned to her seat and looked at Joe. “Does that help?”

  He shook his head. “This isn’t polite behavior, but would you mind?” With crossed arms he made to remove his undershirt.

  You’re going to make this really easy on me, hmm, Joe? “Of course I don’t mind.” Too bad she couldn’t take off her robe, but the nightie was a little thin. “Maybe the soup was a silly idea. Don’t eat it.”

  “I’m going to eat every mouthful. It’ll put hair on my chest.”

  Joe had pushed the undershirt onto the seat of the chair beside him. His tanned chest already had just the right amount of smooth hair. His body beckoned to her, his broad chest and smooth sides, his flat stomach and his navel behind the slightly loosened drawstring below his waist.

  Ellie clasped her hands between her knees.

  The last time she’d been alone with a man…She breathed through her mouth. Once she had got through those terrible times she had promised herself she would never think about them again, not in detail. Yet the memories had drawn a semitransparent curtain around her mind. Mostly she could keep her distance from
the days, the years of the half life from which there had seemed no escape.

  Joe kept his eyes lowered and did as he’d promised, ate his way steadily through the soup.

  One night a week, she’d thought it happened on Fridays but couldn’t be sure, that strange man, her captor, had come to the locked room where she slept. He entered quietly, locking them both in, and didn’t say a word until he lay down on top of her, his weight crushing her into the bed.

  Unlike hers, Jason’s skin—what she could see of it—gleamed from the sun. His light hair shone. She hadn’t been outside in many months. “Why do you take my clothes off and keep yours on?” she’d asked him, even though the thought of him naked brought her close to screaming.

  “It isn’t seemly for a woman to see a man’s body,” he’d told her, drawing her skirt above her hips. “Your place is to please me by doing what you’re told.”

  His hands, big and scarred, passed up her thighs.

  “You’re not eatin’,” Joe said.

  Ellie jumped. Why would the scenes come back now when she had so much to cope with?

  Smiling, focusing on Joe’s face, she slowly stretched her arms above her head, bent them at the elbow and rubbed the back of her neck. It was wet and her fingers shook. “Too warm,” she said, grateful even for the heated breeze that slipped beneath her loose sleeves.

  Joe took up his wine and touched the rim of his glass to her lips. “Drink some. It may not cool you off, but it’ll make you feel good.”

  She kept her arms where they were and took a long, slow swallow of Joe’s wine.

  Heavens. She caught Joe looking at her, looking at the place where the sleeve of her robe fell back on the arm closest to him. Quickly, blushing madly, she made to bring the arm down.

  “Don’t,” Joe said. He moved before she could, held her upraised elbow in one hand and softly stroked his way downward and inside her clothing with the other. “Say the word and I’ll stop.”

  Rigid but for her clamoring heart, Ellie didn’t say anything.

  He didn’t handle her breast, but with the backs of his fingers, he rubbed the side gently. She leaned gradually forward until her elbow rested on his shoulder.

 

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